


A Different Sort of Threat

by Lisa_Telramor



Category: Magic Kaito
Genre: Crack, Gen, Odd, Silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-30
Updated: 2014-08-30
Packaged: 2018-02-15 10:12:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2225181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lisa_Telramor/pseuds/Lisa_Telramor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kaito really shouldn't have planned so many consecutive heists. At least Hakuba's right there suffering with him. But where do all the baked goods keep coming from?</p><p>AKA Stress Baking</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Different Sort of Threat

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted by tigriswolf on comment fic community: author's choice, author's choice, [character] is a stress baker
> 
> Yeah, this turned out a little random and rambley. I hope it's enjoyable all the same.

The more Kaito got to know Hakuba, the more confused he felt about him. Hakuba would put on a proper, superior attitude in class, then ruin it with getting into insult wars with Kaito. He’d show amazing insights on cases and Kid’s personality (which really, Kaito could do without for the sake of his nerves), and then be completely clueless in understanding a suspect’s motivations. And lately he’d been showing up with baked good for class. While it was odd, Kaito wouldn’t have thought anything of it if Hakuba hadn’t been keeping it secret. Kaito was starting to wonder if Hakuba’s housekeeper was going on a recipe experimentation binge because it was never the same thing twice. 

As much as the mystery of Hakuba bothered him, Kaito didn’t have time to ponder it much lately. A new exhibit had gone in at the museum with gemstones from around the world, and at least four had the potential to be Pandora. He supposed he could have stolen them all at once, but the pieces were spread out and the risk was actually higher to take multiple gems than to target the same place multiple times. This wouldn’t have been a problem, but the exhibit only lasted for a month and the full moon was three weeks in to the exhibit. Meaning he had four heists to pull off in a three week period.

If Kaito was stressed trying to picture the logistics, he could imagine how stressed the police officers were. He’d hold more sympathy, but they were a collective of minds working on a problem and he was only one mind having to come up with ten variable strategies per heist to cover any possible tightening in security that happened between heists.

The whole thing was made worse by Aoko’s loud declarations against Kid every morning and having to act like a Kid fanboy and get chased by a mop just for normalcy. Kaito knew he was a bit narcissistic, but really, he wasn’t _that_ self obsessive, and he was getting tired of talking about himself in roundabout third person.  

Kaito figured he could be excused for a bit of inattention to detail all things considered. And it wasn’t like he was completely inobservant. He noticed Hakuba’s glances toward the giant pile of sugar cookies that had appeared at the front of the class before the rest of the class arrived.

*** 

Kaito wished he had remembered the group project coming up. Two heists in and the warning for the next one sent, he couldn’t exactly change his plans. The only questionable relief was that Hakuba was in his group too—meaning there was an equal lack of time to meet up and do work. Aoko—their third member, volunteering to take the spot after the teacher assigned Hakuba and Kaito to the same group in hope of keeping the project from ending in both of them killing each other—made things a bit harder. Which was how Kaito found himself boxed in by Aoko with a mop next to Hakuba when he should have been eating lunch. 

“We have to meet sometime!” Aoko said, gripping her mop in hand. “Hakuba-kun, I know you’re busy, but Kaito, you’re just going to heists to stalk Kid.” She frowned in his direction. 

Kaito gave her a light smile. It was getting hard to hide his exhaustion. “But think of all the things I learn!” 

“How to steal?” 

“Kid’s like a magician; it’s like watching a show.” 

“Not the point, Kaito.” She sucked in a breath to start into what would probably be a rant when Hakuba raised a hand. “Hakuba-kun?” 

“Ah, Aoko-san, would it be possible to divide the work into separate chunks that each of us could complete in our own time? That would eliminate the necessity of meeting.” Hakuba looked worse than Kaito felt. There were circles under his eyes, his hair was just shy of its usual immaculate styling, and there were spots of blue on one of his hands where the skin had been stained. It looked a bit like a pen exploded on his hand and Kaito’s mind wandered at the thought of future prank possibilities. 

Aoko’s mop slumped in her grip. “We could, but we’d have to meet at least a few times. We haven’t even decided on a topic yet.” 

“Couldn’t we do that _now_?” Hakuba asked. He sounded a bit desperate. Kaito would feel bad. Really. But Kaito was nearing the same point Hakuba was at stress wise, and he didn’t have the emotion to spare at the moment. 

“No time. It took me half of lunch just to get you away from your notes to talk.” Kaito winced. Aoko could do an accusatory glare really well. Though the mop was what lent weight to it. 

“Fine.” Hakuba sighed and rubbed his eyes. “I have…two? Two hours free directly after school today. I was going to use them to order my notes for the police meeting tonight, but I could use that time to meet for class instead. Will that work?” 

Aoko smiled. “That works for me. Kaito?” she asked, her voice laced with threats. 

Kaito planned on sitting in at the police meeting, but he technically didn’t have anything to keep him from meeting. So much for his anticipated nap. “Sure.”

“Wonderful,” Hakuba sighed. “The both of you might as well meet at my home. Baaya can drive you home after if you would like.” 

“Really?” Aoko blinked. “You don’t have to—” 

“No,” Hakuba said, “it would make things more convenient.” He side-eyed Kaito looking like he was sure he’d regret the decision. “It is no trouble.” 

“Well…I guess we’ll see you then.” Aoko grabbed the back of Kaito’s uniform. “Lunch.”

Kaito let her drag him away. Hakuba must really be distracted if he was letting them into his home—letting _Kaito_ into his home. Hmm. He’d tuck the thought away to appreciate later. 

**** 

It was one thing knowing intellectually that Hakuba came from a well to do family; it was another to be chauffeured to a large home built in a mixture of Japanese and Western influences and be led up a well landscaped walk to Hakuba’s front door. Kaito had seen photos, but still. No wonder Hakuba acted like he was above everyone sometimes.

“Wow.” Aoko stared up at the building. “This is your home, Hakuba-kun?” 

“Please come in,” Hakuba said, already tugging the door open. “There are guest slippers near the door.” He took off his shoes in the entrance way, moving further into the house. “ _Tadaima_. Baaya, we have guests.” 

Hakuba’s housekeeper exited a room further down the hall. “Welcome home, _bocchama_. Would you like me to get refreshments for your guests?” 

“That won’t be necessary, I can get them myself.” Kaito stared as Hakuba smiled fondly at the older woman. “Would you mind showing them to the entertainment room?” 

“Of course.” Baaya nodded. 

“Kuroba, if you touch anything in my house, I will notice, and I do know where to find you,” Hakuba shot over his shoulder. 

Kaito scowled. “Like I would want to touch any of it!” Sure, the decorations were expensive, and some of them glittered in ways that called to his alter-ego’s taste, but like hell was Kaito going to steal anything from Hakuba’s house while Hakuba was in it. Scouting for anything that looked like it could be Pandora, maybe, but he wasn’t going to get his fingerprints all over things for Hakuba to analyze later. 

“This way,” Baaya said as Aoko slid her feet into slippers, looking at the Western paintings hung in the entryway with awe. 

“The air smells sweet,” Aoko murmured to Kaito as they were escorted deeper into the house. 

If Kaito had doubts that the random baked goods were coming from Hakuba’s home, he didn’t have them anymore. The house smelled like a bake shop. They were led to the right, down a hallway in the opposite direction Hakuba disappeared in. The Western art blended tastefully into Western style art by Japanese artists, then into Japanese art as they passed what looked like a tea room. It didn’t look like it had been used recently, but the flowers in the vase were still freshly arranged. Baaya opened a door, and the rich decorations disappeared in the new hallway on the other side. Instead there were photos. Some held Hakuba as a child, looking too serious for a kid, and a woman who could only be his mother. In others were a group of men laughing, an older man holding a young Hakuba up to a microscope, and a marriage photo showing what had to be Hakuba’s grandparents on his father’s side. There wasn’t a photo of Hakuba’s parents together, Kaito noticed. 

“Here we are.” Baaya motioned to an open doorway. There was thick grey carpeting on the floor, couches that were stuffed in a way that they looked like they would swallow you if you sat on them and a large TV in a cupboard on one side of the room. The couches were arranged around a coffee table. It looked a lot more welcoming than the splendor of what Kaito was calling the ‘public’ side of the Hakuba home. This felt like a room people actually used, not one that was up kept for appearances. A book was on the coffee table, marked about a quarter of the way through, with a pair of reading glasses resting on top of it. Hakuba’s or someone else’s? 

“Saguru-bocchama will be in in a moment. Please make yourselves comfortable in the meantime.” Baaya bowed shallowly and left them to their own devices. 

Kaito picked up the book. _The World and the Desire._ …A romance novel? He wasn’t sure if he wanted it to be Hakuba’s so he could laugh or to forget seeing it entirely as the idea of it belonging to any other member of the household felt too strange. 

Aoko plopped onto one of the overstuffed couches. She sank two inches into it, wiggling to get comfortable. “Huh. You know, I expected something smaller.” 

“Or for it to all be as ordered as the front of the house.” The recreation room was actually comfortable looking. Did Hakuba ever use it? Did Hakuba ever relax? Hakuba and relaxation didn’t equate. Kaito leaned back and let one of the couch cushions do its best to try to swallow him in squishiness. It was a bit too comfortable. It made him want to doze off when he couldn’t afford to. 

“If Hakuba-kun’s home is like this, why is he going to our high school?” Aoko mused. “He could afford a private school.” 

“He probably goes to our school because it leaves him time to be a detective.” If Kaito could be a thief in his spare time, Hakuba had to have enough spare time to pursue his career and then some. The door between sides of the house opened and shut. Kaito listened to Hakuba’s slow, steady footsteps come down the hall. 

“Ba-Kaito, you’d better not be falling asleep!” Aoko said. 

“I’m not.” He was just closing his eyes. Momentarily. Nothing to do with the couch at all. 

“I have a book bag.” 

“I’m not sleeping.” 

“I would hope you were not sleeping, Kuroba, as that would defeat the purpose of being at my home,” Hakuba said from the doorway. 

Kaito forced his eyes open. Hakuba had a tray with tea cups and a mound of what looked like shortbread cookies neatly stacked on the side. 

“Here.” Hakuba set the tray on the coffee table. “Have a biscuit. Have ten biscuits.” He flopped onto the couch next to Aoko, looking even more like he was going to fall asleep than Kaito felt. 

“So,” Kaito said, gaining willpower to sit up with the promise of sweets and hopefully caffeinated tea, “has your household been on a baking binge or something? Because you’ve had at least ten different baked goods at school the last few weeks and the shortbread isn’t one of them.” 

“That was Hakuba-kun?” Aoko took a cookie and nibbled on it. “Mm. I thought Akako-chan was having admirers sending her things again.” 

“Hakuba was sneaking them in before class.” Kaito took a bite of one of the cookies. It was crisper than most shortbread he had come across—more buttery than sweet; perfect for the black tea Hakuba served with it. 

Hakuba groaned and mumbled something. 

“What was that?” 

“I said that the baked goods are Kid’s fault.” 

“…how are baked goods Kid’s fault?” Aoko looked at her cookie like it was going to explode into confetti. 

“There’s nothing wrong with the biscuit, Aoko-kun.” Hakuba sat up, scrubbing at his eyes. “It’s the number of heists. I’ve been a bit stressed lately and…when I’m stressed…” He waved a hand at the tray. 

“So you bake?” Kaito asked. 

“Yes.” 

“You _bake?_ ” He hoped the cookies weren’t drugged. None of the others had been but… 

“Is it that hard a concept to understand?” Hakuba asked archly. “It’s applied chemistry with pleasant, edible results. Unfortunately my baking has gotten a bit out of hand; I’ve been baking more than the household can consume.” He smirked. “And Father threatened to confiscate the sugar if I didn’t stop ruining his diet.” 

“How do you have time to even do that much baking?” 

“I don’t,” Hakuba said bluntly. “I’ve been at school, heists, police meetings, or sleeping the majority of the last few weeks. I’ve been baking on autopilot while trying to complete homework and readings. It has had an unfortunate effect on my school books.” 

“Huh.” Kaito finished the cookie. Stress baking. It was a healthier outlet than Kaito’s own tendency to seek adrenaline rushes he supposed. He tried to picture Hakuba baking, getting bits of cookie dough all over his school books. It didn’t fit. Hakuba probably baked with the same obsessive neatness he seemed to bring to everything else. The shortbread cookies were all uniform shape and thickness, perfect circles with golden edges. They could have been from a bakery. If this was baking on autopilot, he didn’t want to know the level of detail that would go into baking with Hakuba’s full attention devoted to it. 

“The project?” Hakuba prompted. 

Aoko brightened and pulled out her notebook. Kaito settled in ready to agree to whatever Aoko said just to make the meeting end faster. It was a rare moment where he was sure Hakuba felt the exact same way he did. 

***** 

The day before the last heist, Hakuba cornered Kaito after class and shoved a full grocery bag into his arms. 

“…what is this?” It was lumpy and heavier than he was expecting, and…ah, smelled sweet, so baked goods? 

“The class is no longer eating the baked goods. It is now your responsibility to get rid of the extras. And Father took the sugar, so those are made with alternative sweeteners.” Hakuba had bags under his eyes without the benefit of makeup like Kaito had to hide them. 

Kaito opened the bag to find a lot of light brown circles, smaller than _daifuku_ in diameter. “How do you even keep coming up with new recipes?” 

“I have access to something known as the internet,” Hakuba said wryly. “But these are experimental. If I find out you threw them away, I’ll know.” 

Kaito swallowed uneasily, tying the bag shut. From the look in Hakuba’s eyes, Kaito was to blame so Kaito would have to eat every last cookie or Hakuba would make his life hell. The funny thing was, on another day or in a slightly different situation, this wouldn’t have been a bad thing at all. Considering the variety of things Hakuba had brought in the last week, and how the sheer number of baked goods was still increasing on a daily basis… Well, Hakuba might actually cure Kaito of his sweet tooth if this kept up. 

“You know, this is a really weird way of getting revenge.” 

“So you acknowledge that there is something to get revenge for?” Hakuba said, still as sharp as ever to dive for possible admissions of guilt. 

Kaito rolled his eyes. “I didn’t say that, but you certainly seem to think you need some kind of revenge.” 

“Believe me, if I thought tossing baked goods at Kid would have any effect, I would do so.” Hakuba walked away without another word leaving Kaito with a bag of cookies and an uncomfortable feeling that things were only going to get worse before they got better. 

**** 

Baked goods did not show up at the last heist, much to Kaito’s relief. The heist itself didn’t have any of the usual liveliness and even Nakamori-keibu, who seemed to have endless energy, was subdued. There had been no snipers, the traps against Kid were half-hearted, the gem was an easy pick, and Kaito swore he would never EVER do something like this again. Ever. Not even in a similar situation. He’d find some way to steal them all at once or something, but hell no was he going to be this sleep deprived again. 

He crashed face down into bed with the gemstone in his hand and a profound relief that tomorrow was the full moon and he could check the stone then because he didn’t have the energy to check it tonight. 

Kaito woke up feeling cold—he’d left the window open?—and to the doorbell ringing. Two, three times before he managed to actually force his body to sit up, and even then he realized there was a gemstone-shaped impression on his fingers because he hadn’t managed to even set the gem aside or change out of his Kid costume. 

For once he wanted coffee, black, not a sugar crystal in sight, which was saying a lot considering how much he liked sweets (despite Hakuba doing his best to change that via overexposure). If he drank that, he figured he _might_ manage to do more than squint dumbly in the direction of the front door as his brain tried to connect the dinging noise to its purpose. 

He rolled out of bed, staggering down the hall. The wall only ran into him a few times. It was a sad day when smacking headfirst into a doorway barely registered on his pain scale. 

The doorbell had gone silent, and when Kaito checked through the peep hole, no one was there. He felt a bit annoyed since he could have still been blissfully dead to the world, not slowly realizing he had a bruise the size of one of his flash grenades growing on his forehead. Kaito yanked the door open, hoping he would catch a glimpse of whoever had been ringing his doorbell, but the street was empty. Instead there was a basket on the doorstep done up in colored cellophane with a card taped on top. It had Kaito’s name on it in Hakuba’s impeccable handwriting. He plucked it off the package and tore the envelope open. 

_Kuroba,_

_Here are the remains of the largest baking binge I have had since moving to Japan. Protests to your identity aside, I expect Kid shall be informed that if a stretch like this happens again, actions will be taken. I have enlisted the agreement of Nakamori Aoko to hold you down and force feed you Swedish Fish if anything remotely resembling this happens again. Perhaps you should start thinking seriously if there is any way to prevent this from happening again. I expect every cookie to be consumed within the week. I will know if you have given them away or thrown them out. Consider yourself warned._

_~Hakuba Saguru_  

Kaito picked up the basket. It was heavier than he expected and he almost fumbled it. “What did he put in it, rocks?” But no, it was cookie, after cookie, after cookie, with a corner devoted to what looked like lemon muffins. He had the urge to test each and every one for poison. Although he had a feeling if any kind of sabotage was going on, it was to make Kid lose his trim figure. If Kaito ate nothing but what was in the basket for a week, he might be able to finish them. Might. Damn it. Or he could toss them and find out what Hakuba’s wrath would be. He was too tired for this. 

The basket went on the counter, the note went in his pocket (huh, still in costume, that could have been bad if he’d actually answered the door on time) and Kaito went back to bed. If this happened again, Kaito was making sure there was a bake sale going on in the area. Then he’d direct Hakuba to them and everyone could be happy, and no one would get sick of sugar. 

Kaito hit the bed, and slept.  



End file.
